House brought his legs up onto the gurney and smoothed out his hospital gown. "Cruel joke," he muttered, and lay down.
"I'm sorry?" Cuddy asked, having transient second thoughts about his motives.
His sigh was barely audible. "Doesn't matter what happens to me; they would still leap at the opportunity to put me in this backless dress. Doctor-patient confidentiality, my bare ass."
Cuddy tried not to smile as she hooked his cane over the arm of the gurney. She pulled up a chair and rested her arms beside the cane. "House," she began, and shook her head. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I know it was all a façade."
Her face tightened. "Excuse me?"
"Come on," he rumbled. "Look at you. You're young, great-looking. You just didn't want me to be alone. It's why you hired me back, it's why you married me. And I'm sorry I put you through it."
"House," she breathed. "How could you think that?"
He turned his head to look at her. "The saddest I've ever seen you was when we were saying our vows."
"Those were happy tears."
He gave an acerbic smile as he looked up at the ceiling. "Yeah, sure," his eyes flicked over to her. "You're free now, Cuddy."
She stared at him a moment, then stood up, shaking her head. "This isn't a trap, House; it's a choice. A choice I'll make over and over again. Because I love you."
"I won't remember that."
"But I will." She smiled warmly at him as she picked up the mask. "I'll see you when you wake up."
He said nothing, closing his eyes as she put on the mask. Without her instruction, his muffled voice counted all the way down to three before he lost consciousness. Blinking past her tears, Cuddy removed the mask and started attaching the electrodes.
The door opened while Cameron knocked. She spared House a brief glance. "He doesn't need to be anesthetized."
"He requested it. He doesn't want to be awake when I press the button."
"Why?"
"He thinks his mind is all he has. Our marriage didn't change that." Cuddy finished setting up the device and finally turned around to look at Cameron. "He thinks I married him out of pity."
Cameron turned her shocked eyes to House, astonished by the news.
"Did you have something to tell him?"
Cameron hesitated for a moment. "He knows," she finally said, and examined him a moment longer before looking at Cuddy. "Do you think, after this, he'll care?"
"I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't have that hope to hold onto."
Cameron nodded and moved stiffly from the room, arms wrapped around herself as if she would otherwise fall apart. Cuddy turned on the machine and her finger hovered over the button as tears ran down her face. Then, summoning a courage she didn't know she had, she pushed the button.
Cuddy stood in the hallway outside his room with her employees while they waited for the anesthesia to wear off. Their speculation of the future was cut off when from House's room came a deep, wordless yell. Cuddy whirled and pushed open the door and rushed towards House. He looked up at her. His bed still reclined, he struggled to sit up; his hand fumbling for the buttons. He looked angrier than she had ever seen him. "My leg!" he roared.
"I know." Cuddy came rushing to his side and pushed the button to raise the bed.
"God, it hurts! What have you done to me?"
"I would never hurt you."
"Get the hell away from me! Nurse!"
Leading Cuddy's employees and Foreman, Cameron walked into the room, arms crossed. Her moist eyes never left his.
"You have to get this woman away from me."
Cameron went to him and gripped his hand, looking into his eyes. Her touch and voice were gentle. "She's your wife."
House squinted at her, trying to ignore the intense pain radiating from his leg. "And you? You're what, my daughter?"
"I work for you."
"Yeah, prove it. Do something to take the pain away."
"You had an infarction in your quadriceps femoris. The muscle was removed... I can't take the pain away." She tried to blink away her tears, "Nothing ever can."
"So what, I'll just...hurt forever?"
Feeling broken inside, she gazed down at him, clasping his hand. "I'm so sorry."
House stared up at the seven strangers surrounding his bed; then his eyes found his cane. It occurred to him that he was wearing some kind of helmet, and his hands fought with the electrodes. His hands shook terribly. Holding the helmet, he looked from one friendly face to the next with a surprising vulnerability. "Why don't I remember any of you?"
House looked at his other hand as Cuddy took it in her own. "You underwent a procedure to remove your memories. It was your decision."
Surprising her, he pulled his hand from hers, and Cameron's as well. "Please, just...get out of here. Just get out of here."
The doctors and the cashier began to leave. House's voice broke out, halting Cuddy. "Hey...woman-I'm-married-to. What's your name?"
"Lisa."
"Hm, definitely easier on the tongue. What's my name?"
"Greg." She looked around, walking to a table and lifting up the MRI of his brain. She walked back to the bed as Adams meekly closed the door. Stopping by his gurney, she held out the MRI. His eyes took in the image. "Do you know what this means?" she asked.
He gave a subtle shake of his head. "No."
Cuddy set the image aside and tried to smile at him. "You're in good hands here. The people you just saw, all work for me. I'm the Dean of Medicine at this hospital."
"So what do I do?"
"You're unemployed."
He squinted up at her. "How does she work for me?"
"She used to work for you, in your old life. It's behind you."
"So what—what the hell's ahead of me?"
Her thumb grazed his cheek; her fingers touched the back of his head. "Your new life."
He tore his eyes away from hers and looked down, with a fragile detachment on his face.
"Tell me what it is you feel," she urged.
He looked back into her eyes and spoke emptily. "I feel hurt."
